


Welcome to Widowhood

by evenstar8705



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Cardassians, Comedy, F/M, Post-Canon, Post-War, Romance, Science Fiction, Widowed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:27:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21739831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evenstar8705/pseuds/evenstar8705
Summary: Part 4 of Siana's Series. Siana thought she had everything she wanted, but her new family expect her to give them more grandchildren. As Damar's war widow, she starts to get more attention than she ever bargained for. She didn't think she was ready for it, but despite everything, she will eventually find love again.
Relationships: Siana/Orignal Character
Kudos: 4





	1. Prologue

A few months after going home to Cardassia, Siana found herself settling in quicker than she imagined. The Kelan Province of Cardassia was more rural and quiet than the rest and Perali City was spared from most of the bombing because the Dominion had prioritized the densely populated cities to inflict maximum loss of life. Waking up every morning with her son wrapped within her blankets was the best way to start her day.

His grandparents were almost too kind. They had given her and Jivan the most spacious rooms in their home. They offered her clothes, jewels and insisted if she wanted or needed anything, they would provide. Melset and Garak were often busy working diligently to keep the provisional government working and with Starfleet’s programs, but they visited when they could.

Siana received calls from Kilana every other week updating her on matters with the Jem’Hadar. She explained that more of them were converting to the Bajoran religion. The Vedek Assembly on Bajor was in an uproar over it and Starfleet was baffled. They were monitoring the situation very closely, uncertain how the situation would develop.

“I thought Starfleet was tolerant of alien religions and possessed a secular society on Earth,” Kilana was confused.

“They have an ugly history of religious wars in their past,” Siana explained. “Look up the Crusades and Jihads, for example. There are religions that justify violence, forced conversions, and genocide. The Bajoran religion is peaceful, but radicals can turn the most benevolent teachings into war mongering doctrine.”

“I saw for myself what the Founders used spirituality for,” the Vorta nodded. “And exactly how they used the Jem’Hadar. I suppose Starfleet does have reason to be nervous.”

“I’m hoping with the White addiction utterly beaten and the Jem’Hadar gaining lives of their own, a rogue army of warrior monks is a remote possibility. Besides, secular societies are not above war and genocide either. The Cardassians used racism and twisted science to justify their crimes against Bajorans and others,” Siana reminded her.

“I suppose that is true. I see no signs of the Jem’Hadar declaring war yet,” Kilana reassured her.

“How’s Weyoun?” Siana changed the subject to happier matters.

Kilana blushed, “He is just fine. The both of us are happy as clams.”

“Are you trying for Vorta babies yet?”

“Right now I have my hands full with Que’la’s brood! You do remember that her twelve daughters are barely more than toddlers! They grow at a faster pace than your Jivan, but I don’t yet know how their growth spurts will go.”

“Let the Jem’Hadar raise their own, Kilana! Those girls have a mother and two fathers. They practically have four if you count Jasper and Jack. Is Weyoun not open to the idea of fatherhood?”

“He seems to enjoy helping with the girls, but remember, Siana, we need time to establish our relationship as a couple before we leap into the ultimate evolutionary act of conceiving children! Yes, we both possess the memories of our clones, and yes we are compatible, but it has been years since we were lovers. Our gods have either forsaken us or have changed. Do you think any of this has been easy on the Vorta?”

“I suppose not. I just thought you would be eager to experience motherhood. You were so eager to play matchmaker and caregiver before.”

“You sure are one to pressure another woman to reproduce!”

“What?” Siana rolled her eyes. “I have a son, thank you!”

“Yes, but I notice he has no siblings. I’ve heard the Cardassians still produce the most magnificent propaganda! The new Central Command or whatever you’re styling your government these days is pushing its citizens to recover and replenish, right?”

“Yes,” Siana said with exasperation. “I don’t blame them for it. Over a billion lives were lost. More of the men are dead because of the consecutive wars and males are naturally drawn to the military. The women are being told to find a mate and produce at least three or four children.”

“Three or four?”

“Yes. Two are needed to replace the parents. A third child is a spare. A fourth is ideal to make up for the couples that are infertile or otherwise unable to reproduce.”

“Why stop at four? Why not more?” Kilana grinned.

“We have a smaller work force so producing food for that many would be difficult. We can’t rely on Starfleet aid forever. Did you know that even Bajoran volunteers are sending relief?”

“Hardly anything surprises me. You are falling short of your duty to Cardassia, though,” Kilana teased.

Siana groaned, “Didn’t Damar and I do enough for not just this planet, but the entire galaxy?”

“Don’t you get lonely, my dear friend?”

Siana hesitated to answer. OF course she got lonely sometimes! Having her son back eased that pain enormously. She had an extended family, a network of neighbors, and she worked at a local clinic so she had satisfying work. She had never had those things in her life. She should be content in all aspects of her life.

But there were nights she missed a man’s touch. She had passions and appetites, even if she had been ignoring them largely since Damar’s death. A part of her was still grieving and she was reminded in a bittersweet way every time she looked at Jivan too long.  


Kilana suddenly ran away from the screen at the sounds of hissing, biting and thrashing. She shouted, “Katana, Bayoneta, stop fighting over your food! Que’la, control your daughters!”

Siana laughed as she saw the lizard woman for a blurred second. She let out a roar and the signal was lost as a Jem’Hadar child scrambled to escape her punishment.


	2. Legitimacy

Siana dressed herself modestly for her appearance in court. Cardassians expected a show, but Siana wouldn’t allow herself to be caught putting on airs or risk the scrupulous archon to see cracks in a fragile façade. She was asking for something nontraditional after all and her hybrid features couldn’t be hidden by clothing or makeup. She would scandalize the court whether she tried to or not. 

She took careful care with Jivan’s clothes. She didn’t want to involve him directly, but this was an expectation she knew she couldn’t deny. The court and witnesses would require his presence, the bastard in question. His absence would be taken for a slight and she knew someone would accuse her of being a bad mother if he looked shabby. He was supposed to be the son of Damar.

They boarded a shuttle to the capital city. Jivan was excited, treating the whole affair like a vacation. That was a good thing. Usually if there were children being handled in a case, such proceedings were done in private, but word had traveled around about her and Jivan. Damar’s mother and father tried to reassure her that all would go well. Chief Archon Jenol was a kind judge and they were certain Jivan would be declared legitimate. She was grateful for their support. No doubt she needed it more than she knew.  


Siana was still unprepared for the sheer volume of people jostling to see them and hoping to bear witness when they arrived to the imposing court building. For those unable to be in attendance, there were recording devices and crews everywhere to record every second. It seemed that every pair of eyes on Cardassia was upon them. 

She froze in panic. That was actually the best thing she could do. The alternative would have been to scream and run for the hills. Her little son was the brave soul that saved her. He took her hand and urged her on.

“Let’s pretend you are taking me to school!” he whispered.

“Yes, Jivan,” she allowed him to lead her forward. “We are going to a noisy school full of the biggest busybodies ever!”

“You’re funny, mother!” he giggled.

The courtroom itself was orderly and silent. The archon didn’t tolerate anything less. Jivan and his grandparents sat as the judge beckoned Siana forward after reciting the date and other mundane details. 

“You are Siana?” the archon asked.

“Yes,” she bowed her head respectfully.

“Speak up.”

“I am Siana.”

Archon Jenol appraised her critically and said, “What is your surname? You never put any other names on your files. Was that by mistake or design?”

“It was no mistake, archon. I have no surname.”

“And yet you are a citizen of Cardassia. We do have the proof of that. Explain that to the witnesses.”

“I was born on Cardassia to unknown parents, but it was very obvious to my caregivers that my mother must have been full Cardassian. Several reported a young Cardassian woman abandoning me at a hospital. It was my father that was of more dubious origin. My blood contained traces of Bajoran and an unknown source.”

“You were raised on Cardassia?”

“Yes, archon, I was raised in the Institute. I am a proud citizen of Cardassia.”

“What made you wait so long to request a posthumous marriage?”

“Honestly, I had no idea it was an option and I know how taxed Cardassia’s judicial system is with lofty matters. When my sister-in-law proposed the idea to me, I wasn’t sure it could be done. But then I stewed on the matter and realized it would be the best thing for my son. Jivan deserves to be legitimized.”

“Is that handsome young man Jivan?”

“I am!” the boy stood and saluted. “Jivan Damar of Perali City, Cardassia Prime!”

The archon smiled, “It is obvious simply by looking at him that he is the son of Corat Damar so I will not correct the child. We have the paternity tests to prove it and that is now in the public record. The former Legate had a wife and son prior that were, regrettably, executed by the Dominion. You began an affair with him before that event, did you not, Siana?”

“I did,” Siana owned up to it.

There was some slight murmuring at that announcement. The archon gazed sharply into the crowd, demanding their silence nonverbally. 

“I wouldn’t dream of speaking ill of the most honorable dead, but it is a known fact that the Legate wasn’t consistently faithful to his wedding vows. His marriage would have been null and void the moment he strayed if it were revealed then. I don’t think anyone would deny his wife would have filed for divorce. Her honor was debased by her husband’s actions,” the archon said slowly and carefully. “Therefore, I declare that their marriage was dissolved some time during his days after the Klingon War. That is when rumors began of his affairs. You were not the woman that caused him to break his vows. We do know that.”

“I fear I was not ignorant of his marital status,” Siana probably shouldn’t have said anything to condemn herself, but she could not lie and still felt shame.

“You, Siana, were unwed?”

“I have never been married.”

“And you had no other partners during your time with Corat Damar?”

“None.”

“Gul Melset and many others have submitted testimony declaring you of outstanding moral character. You are responsible for helping Legate Damar regain his sobriety during the Dominion War. You have done selfless work since helping other addicts in Perali City and you have done official work with other species. Is there anyone here that would deny this woman is ethical and honorable?”

There was a heavy silence in which no one spoke. Then Chief Archon Jenol continued.

“No one is fool enough to dispute it. Jivan is clearly healthy and happy. The entire family clan has given their approval of marriage and wrote that they are certain their son would have made you an honest woman and embraced his son by you if he had survived. He kept you secret to keep you safe, or you both would have been executed just as his former wife and child were. Then Legate Damar made the ultimate sacrifice. For Cardassia!”

“For Cadassia!” every citizen, including Jivan, echoed that phrase loudly.

“I now posthumously declare your marriage to Corat Damar valid! You have a surname now. Congratulations, Siana Damar! I also declare your son Jivan legitimate and son of a war hero. Let no one ever deny it! I salute you, war widow, and I personally thank you for your service.”

The courtroom broke into thunderous applause. The archon promptly left the room, dismissing them all with a gesture. She looked quite pleased and didn’t silence the uncharacteristically noisy crowd. These were supposed to be somber affairs.  


A clerk then presented Siana and Jivan with the marriage license and a birth certificate for them both to sign. Damar’s signature had to be copied from elsewhere, but that couldn’t be helped. Luckily Siana was too overwhelmed to be emotional. She had just become a wife and then a widow within the same breath!

“I’m not a bastard anymore?” Jivan peered at her and the clerk.

“You never were, my son,” Siana said fiercely. “Your father said it to me himself: Don’t call this child a bastard. I will never call it that.”

“I love you, mother,” Jivan stroked Damar’s signature and said to it, “and I love you too, father.”

With this action, Siana knew that she and Jivan could apply for all the benefits they were entitled to. She hadn’t done it for monetary gain, though. She didn’t want anyone to ever call her son a bastard to his face or under their breath in hatred to bait him. She wanted her shame to be taken away and to make her new in laws proud. She had succeeded and promised herself she would send Archon Jenol a sincere message of gratitude as soon as she got the chance. 

Since they were in the capital already, they did take a sort of vacation then to celebrate. They were given an honor guard and had to avoid all the annoyances that came with celebrity status. Damar’s family had been conservative and quite humble. His death had launched them into a morbid fame they never asked for. At least they had the grace to allow the family a private moment at the war memorial.

“There’s my father!” Jivan clasped himself around the stone leg of the statuette of Damar. 

“It’s good to see they didn’t exaggerate any of his features,” his parents approved.

Siana was silent as she stared up into the statue’s face. The stone cutters had decided to give Damar a thoughtful expression and the proper pose of a soldier. His full name and titles were written out in clear and beautiful glyphs. His medals were on display in a sealed case with a voice recording summarizing his life and deeds. It wasn’t long before the stone cutters were there carving the names of his new living family members into the stone too.

She felt a surge of pride but also sadness. Her son sensed it and clasped her leg. She pet his fine black hair. 

“I wish my father were alive,” Jivan said. “It’s great that he’s a hero and he gets this big statue, but I’d rather have him.”

That made her tears finally flow. Her grief hit her all at once. She wished she could have had a wedding ceremony. She wished Damar would have been on the shuttle when she gave birth to their son. She wished he could have been there on his first day of school. She wished he could give him gentle discipline and the wisdom that only a father could share. She wanted to feel his lips on her own and hear his laugh. All that was left of him was this stone memorial and it wasn’t enough.  


Her son shared her grief, and her in-laws clasped them both. There was no place or time more appropriate to keen together.


	3. Dating

There were unintended consequences to Siana’s public appearance. When her family returned to Perali City, there were strangers lingering at their home and her workplace. They weren’t being obtrusive but it was obvious they were trying to catch a glimpse of the hybrid and Jivan. She received letters of condolences especially from soldiers that had served with or known Damar.

She was shocked that many of the men boldly asked if she would consider courtship. They ogled her in the street. She had local men and women stare at her for a time when she first arrived. It took time for them to accept her. This was different. Those people had simply needed to familiarize themselves with her hybrid features. These men seemed to be fascinated.

Siana felt exposed and embarrassed. She began to put on more layers of clothing until her mother-in-law protested.

“Don’t do that! Why are you hiding your beautiful figure?”

“What are you talking about? Everyone is laughing at me! That or they are repulsed.”

“You misunderstand.”

“Misunderstand what?”

“Use your nose next time a man studies you. That will answer your question.”

She was baffled and admitted she had never come close enough to these men to smell them. The next time she was out for a walk with her coworkers and they passed a few men by, she inhaled through her nose deeply. She was alarmed that she caught the scent of pheromones. These men were actually attracted to her?

“I thought Cardassians hate hybrids!”

“Attitudes are changing,” her mother-in-law explained. “As much as we deny it, we are intrigued by the exotic, especially our men toward Bajoran women. Didn’t my son tell you he always found their nose ridges incredibly cute?”

Siana traced her own ridges and was disturbed. She represented a fetish? Men were drawn to her precisely because she was a hybrid? She admitted Damar had confessed she seemed to be a representation of the best of both species, but he also loved her personality and company. It was not her nose, missing scales, pale pallor, and other alien features that hooked him.

The men that wrote to her had other motives of less sexual tones but that were no less shallow. The soldiers in particular kept mentioning her late husband. She could read between the lines. They wanted the prestige of having the famous war widow at their side and her Bajoran blood would make it appear that they were tolerant and accepting. Peace, love, and acceptance between Cardassia and Bajor were possible thanks to their example. They didn’t so much care for her. Some might have a healthy mix of both motivations behind their overtures of love. 

“I don’t want to remarry,” she told her in-laws.

They gasped and responded, “We know you cared so much for our son, but you shouldn’t be alone! Jivan needs a father figure and siblings! Cardassia needs more children!”

“I’m telling you that I am not ready.”

“It has been over seven years! No one is ever prepared to date again! We become like nervous teenagers all over again, but we will help you. Let us vet these suitors, find the cream of the crop, and then let him pamper you! Give them, and yourself, a chance at happiness! You are bound to like at least one of them!”

“You are the most beautiful woman to me, mother!” Jivan said with encouragement. “A man to make you happy and teach me man things could be so wonderful!”

“Now that I have you joining forces with your grandparents, I guess I can’t say no!” Siana groaned.

They were true to their word. Her in-laws demanded to meet with dozens of men. They were quick to discern which had potential and which the ambitious creeps were. They acknowledged they could still be wrong, and they probably had different taste than she did, but it saved Siana precious time. They were lucky she was willing to see anyone.

The most promising suitor was a man called Silas. Her in-laws would give her no more information. They wanted Siana to ask, to investigate, to feel out his intentions and feelings. She let them dress her up and watched Jivan as Silas took her out for the first date she had been on in years.

Nervous wasn’t the right word for what she felt. She felt nearly all the emotions on the list of emotions. Part of her wanted the date to go splendidly and yet she was almost wholly convinced it would fail. She was her own worst enemy.

Silas himself was handsome and gracious. She smelled faint pheromones signaling that he found her attractive and wasn’t repulsed by her hybrid features. She had a passing attraction to him as well. She thanked the stars their species had that little shortcut to make things easier! Attraction was easy, but love and romance had barely anything to do with that.

“Pleased to meet you, Silas,” she inclined her head in a gesture of respect.

“Likewise, Siana,” his eyes were intense and green, a very rare color on Cardassia even among the Kelani.

He provided transportation to the finest dining hall in Perali City. It was more formal than she was comfortable with and when she saw dancers dancing between or after courses, she felt terror. She wasn’t a graceful dancer. 

“I am not much for dancing,” Silas must have read something in her face. “I come here for the food.”

“You eat here often?”

“When my work meetings require it.”

She realized Silas must be wealthy when she saw the prices on the menu. He had the unmistakable strides of a seasoned soldier. She wondered if he was going to brag about his campaigns or downplay his career. Soldiers were almost always men of extremes. She felt her heart sink a little. She already knew what was expected of soldiers on Cardassia.

“Do you have interesting clients at your clinic?” Silas asked.

“If I did, I couldn’t tell you who they were.”

“You could just tell me the stories.”

She told him some harmless and comical yarns as they waited for the server to come by. Silas requested the most expensive kanar for them both and Siana bristled. She had no choice but to interrupt.

“I’m afraid I can’t drink, young man, so an entire bottle of kanar will be an extravagant waste unless my suitor is a heavy drinker?”

Silas blinked and said, “She is right then. I will have a small glass of kanar. She may have whatever she wants.”

“Thank you, Silas.”

She ordered a soft beverage and hid her face behind the menu. No doubt she had humiliated Silas a bit, but she was irritated he had presumed to order even something as small as a drink for her. He had no clue about her former addictions, but she knew she couldn’t risk relapsing again. 

“Continue with your story, please.”

“I forgot entirely what I was talking about,” Siana waved a hand. “Tell me about yourself instead.”

“I am a soldier, as you probably guessed. I met your late husband a few times.”

“I need you to do me a tiny favor, dear Silas,” she said sweetly and tried not to grimace.

“Anything,” he was baited by her use of an endearment. 

“Don’t invoke Damar again!” she snarled.

He became silent. Their date was beginning to sour already.

“I have a gift for you,” he cleared his throat.

“Oh!” she felt guilty now. “I wasn’t expecting that!”

“No need to expect a gift!”

He produced Bajoran lilacs and she accepted without much enthusiasm. She never cared for plants and he was making assumptions. Just because she was part Bajoran didn’t mean he should rely on what he had read or heard of Bajoran courtship rituals to try to win her over. She wished he would stop trying to ‘win her over’ entirely. 

“Do you like them?”

“You gave them to exactly the right person. I know where to make them feel comfortable when they die.”

He laughed but she hadn’t meant her comment as a joke. She was relieved when the server came back with their drinks and asked for their order. Every silent moment was becoming an endless agony. She ate and listened to Silas as he began to boast. He was that type as she had imagined he might be.

“You pick dessert.”

“Do you have a sweet tooth, Silas?”

“Guilty as charged.”

She noticed he was looking at her intently when she mentioned sweets. A part of her was flattered. She picked a fruit based dessert and the mood began to sweeten again. She told him about Que’la and Kilana. She started to miss the little Jem’Hadar girls. Talking about children seemed to soften the soldier. He confessed he had not had time for a wife or children. He was lonely and eager to serve Cardassia in a new and more serene way. Those words filled her with hope.

“I would love to meet your son,” he told her.

“Jivan?” she hesitated. “I think it’s much too soon for that.”

“I trust your judgment.”

Luckily, he didn’t seem insulted. She was also glad that he didn’t ask her to dance after all. He looked for a moment like he was considering it. Instead he paid their bill and asked to escort her home. She was leaning toward recounting the evening as a success to her in-laws and was seriously considering asking Silas for another date. 

Then he overstepped his bounds.

She went to give him a polite kiss on the cheek and he pulled her into a far more invasive kiss then she ever bargained for on a first date. His hands slid down her shoulders to caress the inner skin of her arms. His scent was becoming overwhelming. She was in shock for a moment and he leaped to conclusions again and decided her inaction was some sort of permission. 

He started groping the curves of her body, his tongue prodding the roof of her mouth. That made her snap out of it and shove him away.

“That’s quite enough, Silas!”

“I thought you were into me. I can smell your pheromones.”

“You could have made your move a bit more tactfully!” she rubbed her lips. “As a soldier, you don’t fire your weapons without orders! Why do you behave like an animal around a supposedly pretty woman?”

“You are not pretty, you are beautiful! You can’t blame a man for-“

“For trying to get as far as he possibly can on a first date?”

“For losing some of his careful discipline in a brief moment of weakness.”

“Why do you men act like you have no self control in these matters?” Siana shook her head in disgust. “Damar at least asked me before he kissed me!”

She slammed the door in his face. Her in-laws were disappointed that their first choice had proven a disaster, but they were quick to suggest others. They insisted they would do more background checks; ask more questions, interview relatives and friends and former lovers. Siana finally put her foot down.

“Duty to Cardassia be damned! I fell in love with Damar the man and not the soldier! If you try to make me suffer through another horrible date with another horrible man, I swear I will lose my sobriety so fast it'll make your head spin!" 

At that threat, they realized she was dead serious. They became resigned to the fact that perhaps Siana would remain a widow for the rest of their days. It was out of their hands.


	4. Teacher Conference

“My goodness, the girls have grown!” Siana exclaimed.

“I know and it’s making me a bit sad,” Kilana said.

All twelve Jem’Hadar girls came to greet her and wave. They looked as though they had doubled in size and were more of an age with Jivan. Only a few months had gone by. None of them had been present for the last several calls. Weyoun kept them occupied with some game of his own invention.

“I have a new development for you,” Kilana whispered. “I am going to become a real mother in every sense of the word.”

“Kilana!” the hybrid woman gushed. “I can’t wait to see your child! You know, I was cruel to say you were simply playing at being a mother before. I may have paid my debt to you, but my son and I will always be grateful for what you did for us. You don’t need to prove anything. You have already shown you have a natural mothering instinct.”

“It’s good of you to say that,” the Vorta’s eyes shimmered. “Truth be told, I’m a little scared, my friend.”

“You are scared of what?”

“This will be a real child born of my womb,” Kilana touched her abdomen lightly. “Everything is going to be different.”

“You won’t be raising it alone,” Weyoun clutched his mate’s shoulders and said to Siana, “I apologize for the trouble my clones caused you.”

Siana frowned and couldn’t help but squirm a little. She and Weyoun had never addressed each other like this. It was hard not to see him as a villain guilty of unimaginable war crimes and a man that had personally threatened her life and her unborn child. He had murdered Jivan’s half brother simply to hurt Damar. 

She had been spared seeing much of the direct aftermath of the Great Defeat but she had seen enough to scar her. She knew every citizen of Cardassia and the Federation would rip this Weyoun to pieces or work him to the bone in a labor camp regardless of his guilt. The Jem’Hadar was barely seen as creatures capable of choice in their brutality. The Vorta were different. They were seen like manipulative humanoid rats, cute and harmless at first glance. Siana wished sometimes the Cardassians would gobble the Vorta up like the snakes they were accused of being. 

“Is there any news from the Great Link or the Founders?” she managed to speak back.

“Still silence other than rippling waves in an amber ocean,” Weyoun’s elfish face was grim. “The Female Founder is cut off and has accepted her sentence. She can give no information on what is going on in the whole of the Great Link, but she did say that linking with Odo was profound. I must say I am quite happy Odo did what he did. Each of my clones knew he was either going to be a savior or a harbinger of death and destruction to the Dominion. If only we had defected sooner…”

“What of the rest of the Vorta?”

“We will watch and wait for them, ever faithful. But we will enjoy the simpler things in the meantime.”

He nuzzled noses with Kilana and rejoined the girls in another room.

“Que’la wants to keep the little ones cloistered as long as possible. I keep telling her they can defend themselves. When those venom glands grow in at puberty and my baby arrives, it may be too dangerous to have them mingle. Vorta infants were their favorite prey in our ancient past.”

“Both your species have evolved beyond that, I think.”

“I don’t want to be naïve, Siana. I don’t want to risk my child.”

“I understand, believe me.”

“Give Jivan a kiss from Aunt Kilana.”

“I will do that. Goodbye, dear friend.”

Siana turned off the device and joined her son for relaxation. Her in-laws had gone on a small excursion for a few days. Her son tugged at her sleeve.

“I almost forgot to tell you that Cornelius is coming over tomorrow night.”

“Is this a playmate I haven’t met yet?” she was confused.

“No, he is my teacher. It’s a parent-teacher conference we had to put off. I really like him, mother. He has us call him by his first name instead of his last name like the other instructors. Otherwise, we’d call him Ganon.”

“How odd.”

She was surprised because most instructors of children were female in Cardassian society. The genders were for more equal at the higher levels of education, but as natural nurturers, women dominated the younger classrooms. It was standard for teachers and professors to have parent-teacher conferences over informal dinners at their homes. Siana had hosted several others, but knowing this particular teacher was going to be a man made her think twice.

“Is Cornelius married or very old?” she found herself asking.

“No and no.”

Jivan was distracted by something and scampered off. Siana found it difficult to sleep and thought about the dinner conference looming over her at work the next day. Her client joked she needed a stimulant or a bit of red leaf. She scolded him for that and knew he didn’t really deserve it.

When she got home from work, she reminded herself she was not having to suffer through a date. Then she fussed over making a decent, hearty meal. As it cooked, she nearly scrubbed off her skin with scalding water and might have overdone the moisturizing cream. She dressed a little nicer than she usually did too.

“You look very pretty today, mother!” Jivan said when he got home, having been dropped off by a neighbor with a boy in his class. “Cornelius will be here in a couple hours.”

“Thank you, son.”

He was a punctual man, this teacher of his. At the precise beginning of the evening hour, he arrived. He was not a tall man and looked like the standard Cardassian. He had slicked black hair, gray eyes, and he was broad shouldered and barrel chested. He was quiet and serious, but Jivan raced to the door to give him a hug and led him to a dining chair immediately. 

“May I fetch you a drink, Ganon?” she asked. “Kanar?”

“Tea of just about any flavor, if it pleases you,” he had a soft and mild voice. “Do call me by my first name Cornelius.”

She brought a pitcher of ginger tea for them to share, surprised again. It was Cardassian custom to consume kanar at such dinners. She couldn’t partake, but she always expected to serve it. No guest had ever refused. She served the meal, glad for Jivan’s presence to break the ice a bit. He chattered away at his teacher as Cornelius listened patiently, nodding and keeping eye contact with the child between delicate bites and sips.

“Doesn’t my mother look pretty, Cornelius?” Jivan asked innocently.

Siana swallowed her tea painfully hard, but her discomfort wasn’t plain on her face. Cornelius glanced at her briefly, almost as though it was an afterthought.

“She does,” he said. “You must be very proud of her.”

“She’s very smart, too. Tell him what you do, mother! Tell him you are a doctor and you work n and out of a lab! Tell him you escaped from the Dominion Headquarters! Tell him you stared down a Jem’Hadar soldier, no, tons of them!”

Siana chuckled, “How can I do that? You tell it all for me so well!”

“Jivan is quite a story teller,” Cornelius looked at the boy fondly. “He is a good student. He deserves to go and have some extra play time.”

“Gotcha,” Jivan removed his empty plate and left.

Siana felt cold air and then a burning sensation in her skin. She took a sip of cool tea, hoping the blush wasn’t spreading and becoming visible. Cornelius removed something from his coat pocket. It was a pair of reading spectacles that he placed over his eyes. They made him look strangely more handsome. He also pulled out a computer tablet from his satchel at his feet. 

“Not that charming man is gone, we can discuss the real business,” he began. “You have raised a fine young man, doctor.”

“Thank you,” she was bathed with pride. “And since you insist on being addressed by your first name, I am Siana.”

“I know what it’s like to be a half-orphan-“

“A what?” her eyes flashed. “Half-orphan? I have never heard that phrase before in my life!”

“I meant no offense. It’s a term I coined for myself, Siana. I lost my father when I was fifteen. I can’t imagine what it must be like for Jivan to have lost his father before he was born.”

“Fine,” she had to shake her head to get over his unusual term. “No offense taken. You are about to tell me something less positive about my son, aren’t you?”

“As his teacher, I must report his strengths and weaknesses. Your son has poor memory recall compared to his peers. At four, the vast majority of children have mastered photographic memory.”

He was speaking bluntly and matter-of-fact, but it still felt like a blow to her stomach to hear any criticism of her son. Siana sighed, telling herself not to get defensive. Cornelius showed her examples of his work and explained the reasons for any poor marks he gave the child. He praised the good things to soften his critique. 

Siana didn’t speak for a moment, staring at her tea leaves in her glass.

“Are you alright?”

“What can we do for my son?”

He looked at her intently before he answered with his own question, “What have you told Jivan about his memory?”

“I explained to him he has some mixed heritage thanks to me. As you can see for yourself, I am a hybrid. It’s my fault, not his.”

“You didn’t do him any favors shifting the blame to yourself. You share his blood. He loves and admires you. If he sees you shame yourself and make excuses he learns that. You are his sole parent and role model. I am merely his teacher. There is only so much I can do for him in a short span of time.”

She was becoming defensive and couldn’t help but snap, “Are you a psychologist or a parent? I’m not excusing anything! My memory isn’t perfect and neither is his!”

“Your son can do better. He needs confidence not labeling so I have not mentioned to him anything about disabilities or flaws or poor genes. I would like you and his grandparents to throw away those useless flash cards. Jivan will require extra instruction. He will have to rely on notes for a while, but there are ways to adapt without crippling him. He loves stories. We’ll use that. He likes rhymes and puns. We will use that.”

“What if nothing helps?”

“There are always ‘what if’s. We can’t waste time asking that. The younger years are the most critical. I want to address this now before Jivan barely squeaks by in my class and falls into another teacher’s lap that will simply wash their hands of him and declare him a ‘special’ case. I would like to have these sort of conferences every week and I will privately tutor him for a few hours. I need his guardian’s support. Do I have that, Siana?”

She opened her mouth to respond. She knew everything he was saying was true and he wasn’t being unkind but firm and almost bulldozing his point. She felt attacked and knew that was foolish. He waited patiently.

“What day works best for you, Cornelius?” her tone sounded more resentful than she meant it to be.

“You name it.”

“Thursday,” she said it as though she expected him to challenge her.

“Done!”

“Out of curiosity, you do know who Jivan’s father was, right? No one in their right mind would expel or refuse my son.”

“That doesn’t matter to me. He isn’t here and that doesn’t help your son.”

She smiled darkly. Cornelius removed his spectacles and called out, projecting his voice so much louder than she thought him capable of.

“Jivan, boy, come back for dessert!”

“Yes, Cornelius!” the child ran eagerly back to the table.

“I’m staying to help you with your work? Would you like that?”

“Of course!”

Cornelius threw Siana a smug smile of his own, “Done!”

She couldn’t tell if she loved or hated this man. She supposed in time she would find out the truth.


	5. A round of Thursdays

Every Thursday became a day of great anticipation for both Siana and Jivan. Cornelius offered to cook the second time while Jivan helped. The activity was yet another opportunity to cleverly disguise lessons touching upon multiple subjects. Siana had been expecting arguments and verbal battles, but Cornelius really did seem entirely focused on his student. She began to relax and simply enjoy company. 

“Why don’t you drink kanar?” she asked when Jivan was away playing.

“It’s not what you may be thinking. Addiction never affected my family or myself in any negative way. It is simply that teachers must often behave like priests,” Cornelius laughed. “Children see adults drink enough. It’s good for them to witness me choosing other drinks instead of guzzling kanar every chance I get. Also, I never really liked the taste.”

“No one drinks it for the taste!”

“Then what exactly is the point? Tradition? I imagine that, like me, you never cared much for tradition. The consequences of blindly following tradition are evidenced if we but gaze outside now at the ruins of Cardassia’s infrastructure.”

“It is a shame that it had to come to that for our thick headed comrades to learn that harsh lesson.”

“Have you thrown away those flash cards?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I will be helping Jivan to memorize the periodic table. Ask him now and then about random elements and report to me what he remembers next week.”

“Am I included in your roster of students now, Cornelius?”

“We never stop learning, Siana. I am sure your son will teach you as much as I ever could.”

Her in-laws happened to return from their excursion that moment. When they saw Siana dining with a man they got over-excited. 

“Oh, we are so sorry to interrupt!” her mother-in-law was grinning ear to ear. “Should we fetch supper somewhere and leave the two of you alone?”

“You misunderstand,” Cornelius set the record straight immediately. “I am Jivan’s teacher.”

“This is no date!” Siana was quick to back up his statement.

“I see,” the older woman’s face fell. “Carry on then. Where’s my grandson?”

Jivan was already prepping to leap into his grandmother’s arms like a professional athlete. He was an incredibly affectionate child. She caught him and squeezed him.

“What city were you helping this time?” he asked. “Lakat? Culat?”

“We always go where we are needed most,” his grandfather responded.

“Did you see Aunt Iniki and Garak anywhere?”

“Not this time, child. They are very busy.”

“That’s my favorite teacher, Cornelius!” Jivan pointed to him.

“Hello,” the couple said together.

“It’s a pleasure,” Cornelius put a hand over his chest and bowed his head. “I didn’t make enough food for two extra, but perhaps for the dessert course-“

“Nonsense, we will provide that!”

The senior members of the Damar family went out of their way to make him feel at ease. Cornelius began to go over course work with Jivan, his spectacles back on his face, comfortable in a chair. Siana did dishes as she quietly observed. Her mother-in-law kept giving her coy looks. They all shared dessert, the teacher stayed working with Jivan a couple more hours, and then he shook hands with his grandparents and went on his way home.

“Don’t say a single word!” Siana growled at her in-laws.

They gestured goodnight without breaking the silence. 

More Thursdays came and went much the same. Jivan came down with a common childhood sickness so Cornelius skipped a week. Siana was relieved she didn’t have to entertain a guest, but she was becoming accustomed to his presence. Jivan certainly missed him and whined he wasn’t too sick. Siana did her best to instruct him a little herself.

They agreed to take turns cooking. They would eat, give each other their progress reports, call the boy in for dessert, then break away for the tutoring. Siana was overjoyed to see gradual improvement in her son within a quarter. She smiled with joy and relief.   
She always underestimated how beautiful her smiles were and didn’t do it often enough. After seeing that smile, she began to catch a scent in the air coming from Cornelius. It had not been there before, or if it had been, it had been too faint for her slightly weaker nose to detect. She wasn’t sure if she was broadcasting it herself now or the moment the Cardassian man had first carefully placed his spectacles on his face. They were the pheromones shared between potential mates. 

She tried to ignore them. Cornelius displayed no sign that any change had occurred. 

“Can you recite the periodic table?” he asked her.

“You are testing me?” she said teasingly. 

“How much have you learned from your son?”

She recited the table verbatim and Cornelius applauded.

“Why did you decide to teach?” she asked.

“It was something I fell into. I wanted to become a soldier like nearly every Cardassian boy does at some point. Duty to Cardassia, you know how it goes. My father was a soldier and that’s how I became a half-orphan. I just remembered you didn’t seem to like that term. I was young but determined. I was on my way to becoming a Glinn, but on a mission to a colony planet, I received a spinal injury.”

“Oh, dear! Was it in some terrible combat?”

“I almost wish that were the case but it is much more embarrassing. We were scouting and clearing an area for settlement. There were hidden ditches and deep pits hidden in the terrain. I fell through what looked like a pile of organic debris and shattered several vertebrate that are difficult to repair. The road to recovery wasn’t easy, but I was eager to rejoin.”

“If you healed, what was the objection?”

“I was informed I had been inactive so long and my mistake was seen as so careless that I would be required to start again at the lowest rank, retake all the mental and physical exams, and still be prepared for rejection. I agreed to everything. I passed the academic requirements with flying colors. When it was time for the physical tests, though, they failed me.”

“Why?”

“I was told that the risk of me reinjuring myself would make me a liability. Even desk clerks and cooking staff must be reliably combat ready in the Cardassian military. If you want my theory, though, I think I made a joke about the Prefect of Bajor in the wrong person’s presence.”

“You said something about Dukat?”

“It was rather tasteless and stupid. I was gossiping with someone off duty. I was repeating rumors about his dalliances with Bajoran women. No one breathes a word about such things, true or false, and gets away with it. Dukat was always a powerful and dangerous man. I’m convinced that comment alone caused me to be black listed. Other soldiers had received far worse injuries and committed more severe infractions than I did and managed to be reinstated or promoted.”

“That is entirely unfair!”

“I hid it, but my wife was convinced that I was becoming depressed. She was already a school teacher. She knew I desperately needed some sort of employment and she had just had a coworker retire. She suggested I apply for the position. Since I was male, I would actually have a leg up compared to others. I scoffed at the idea at first and applied more on a whim, thinking it would be a short-term solution. I turned out to not only be quite good at teaching young people, but I actually enjoyed it! I have been teaching ever since.”

“You mentioned your wife. My son said you were unmarried,” Siana was privately devastated.

A shadow fell over his face as he said, “I am a widower.”

“How long has it been? We can drop this subject if you prefer.”

“No, you will continue to wonder about it and pity me without knowing facts,” he sighed. “Her name was Karishma. I knew her from my childhood and she was a dedicated teacher. She was so dedicated she wanted to invest all her energy in her charges and felt it would be unfair to them to have children she would favor too much. We put off having a family. She was in the capital attending a workshop when the bombs fell during the Great Defeat. She didn’t make it to the shelters in time. When they recovered her body, they discovered that she had expelled a fetus. It would have been a little girl. She had been waiting to surprise me with the news when she got home. The respondents had no choice but to take samples for me and vaporize the bodies. I was lucky they found them. There are thousands of unidentified and missing dead.”

“Cornelius, I understand the loss of a spouse,” Siana was disconcerted by what he revealed. “But the loss of a child as well?”

“I need a moment,” Cornelius rose quickly to retreat for privacy.

“Of course.”

He needed a mere ten minutes and was found tutoring Jivan later. Siana reached out instinctively and squeezed his shoulder as he left, communicating her sympathy and a small parcel of her shared pain.

The next week he stayed so long with Jivan after dessert that the two of them fell asleep. Siana watched them curled together on the sofa fondly. Then she shifted them slightly into more comfortable positions and placed a blanket over their sleeping forms. She reached down and removed Cornelius’ spectacles and set them safely within his case to hold them. 

She kissed her son’s lips and stroked Conelius’ heavy brows. She was about to pull away when he inched his face forward, pressing his lips gently against hers. She was surprised, but it wasn’t an insistent kiss. She didn’t want to pull away. It was a satisfying kiss. It felt so natural and wonderful.

“I will take Jivan with me to school in the morning,” Cornelius said drowsily.

“Alright,” was all she could manage.

He seemed to fall fast asleep. He hadn’t even opened his eyes. Siana felt mixed emotions. Part of her wanted to whoop with joy and another wanted to shrink deep within herself and hide there. 

When she returned to check on them before she had to leave for work the next morning, Jivan and Cornelius were already gone. He didn’t message her or call. She considered asking him if he was even awake when he had kissed her, but she was afraid. 

“How was school?” she asked Jivan when he returned.

“It was a blast.”

“And how was Cornelius?”

“Just fine. Oh, he said that next week I am just going to meet with him right after class for a while. No dinner here or anything and then he’ll drop me off.”

“But why?”

“He said he is busy that evening. He probably feels bad that he spent the night here last night.”

“Maybe.”

She was frustrated. She couldn’t ask the boy anything further without raising his suspicions. She wondered if Cornelius had decided that kiss was a mistake and perhaps it was. Besides, was it really appropriate for her to date her son’s teacher?


	6. Epilogue

Several weeks went by that felt like years to Siana and her son. Jivan was more confused than she was. He thought he was starting to understand what his mother had meant when she told him: Every couple in love has their own unique language and ways of telling each other that they like them. But Cornelius hadn’t returned to their home. He was cutting even their tutoring sessions shorter and shorter. Jivan missed him and wondered if he would ever see Cornelius again once the school year was up and he was no longer his teacher. He couldn’t bear it.

“Jivan, class is dismissed. It’s Friday and your classmates have gone home. What are you still doing here?” Cornelius asked sternly.

“You are purposely ignoring my mother!” the boy accused.

“Pardon me?” the Cardassian man’s eyes bulged.

“Why?” Jivan’s eyes blazed.

“We fight,” Cornelius said dismissively.

“So make up!” Jivan ordered. “And, besides, you are lying. I’ve never heard the two of you fight. You talk. Sometimes you talk like you are angry, but I know you are not. You are pretending like in a play or holoprogram.”

Cornelius stared hard at the young man, astonished by his behavior. “This doesn’t concern you, son.”

“I’m not your son.”

“More’s the pity,” he sighed. “Go home.”

“I’m not leaving! I guess you better call my mother!”

Cornelius had never wanted to drag a student by his collar so badly before. He had no choice. He realized the boy was determined and he had been avoiding his mother for far too long. He summoned Siana. She had to leave her clinic early and looked exactly how he felt: Livid. 

“Jivan, we are going now!” her voice was at maximum volume. 

“You two talk. I will be in the hallway within the recording device’s range.”

Jivan marched away and sat on his knees in the hall leaving the man and woman awkwardly alone. Siana stared at the floor. Cornelius pretended a stack of school supplies was the most interesting thing in the universe. 

“I should ring that boy’s neck!” Siana burst. “I swear I raised him better than this!”

“I think we both know the real reason he is acting up,” Cornelius murmured.

“Oh? Enlighten me, Cornelius! You just know everything, don’t you?”

“He wants to play matchmaker. He’s more observant than I gave him credit for. His best strength is his people skills. He displays empathy and understanding far more than his peers. It makes up for anything else he could possibly lack. I should have known.”  


“Maybe he was also pretending to be asleep and witnessed that kiss you gave me!”

“Maybe. And maybe it made the boy happy. How did it make you feel, Siana?”

“Terrible because then you never returned to do it again!”

“Do you really want that?” he caught her gaze.

“I’d love for you to dwell in our home, offering your guidance, your infinite patience, and even your annoying habits, Cornelius. Jivan adores you and so do I.”

“I admit I’ve come to care for you, Siana,” he loved the blush creeping into her hybrid skin. “Your son sweetens the deal.”

“Then let’s do the proper thing and inform our families, shall we?” she nudged toward him.

“Yes,” he crept forward. “Some traditions are worth keeping.”

Siana splayed a hand over his face to tear his spectacles away. Her hand dragged a bit lower, her nails raking the scales of his neck and his chest through his shirt. He sucked in air through his teeth involuntarily. That made her smile devilishly.

“Bottle that energy for later,” she whispered. “This is your classroom. It is sacred.”

“I’ll do that. Thank you for reminding me,” he grinned, his chest heaving a little less as he regained control. “I will save it for the bedroom when I have you for the first time.”

She let out a sensual growl and then called for Jivan once the redness left her face. He entered with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Did you two work out your differences?” he asked.

“Yes,” Cornelius nodded. “I’ll be coming home tomorrow, son.”

The boy giggled and hugged them both. 

The next time Kilana called, Cornelius had quickly integrated into the Damar household. They had already been glued by paperwork and biology and wanted to invite the Vorta couple to a private ceremony. Kilana and Weyoun had a life changing event of their own. The Jem’Hadar girls were approaching puberty and Que’la and her two mates had decided to raise them without depending on Kilana so much. Another clutch of eggs would no doubt be on the way and Que’la would likely be a grandmother sooner than they could imagine. Her daughters had so many Jem’Hadar to choose from. 

“We’d like to introduce you to our son,” Weyoun said proudly. “We named him Milo.”

“He’s so precious!” Siana gasped.

“Mother, Cornelius, is there such a thing as Vorta orphans yet?” Jivan cried eagerly. “He’s so cute! Can we have one?”

The Vorta baby was indeed the most adorable baby Siana had ever seen. His ears were so large and floppy in the moment. His eyes were the perfect circumference and diameter to give him that irresistible wide-eyed look. They were such a color of blue that they almost looked violet. His little nose looked like a chipmunk’s and he had a retractable claw on each wrist. It was apparently to assist natural Vorta infants to climb and would likely fall out once he reached a certain age. He cooed and squeaked, nuzzling his mother’s breast for milk, warmth, and comfort. He had fuzzy black hair on the top of his head and gave a big yawn and stretch at the recording device.

“There are no Vorta orphans, lizard boy,” Weyoun said proudly, a genuine smile etched permanently on his face. “Milo is the first Vorta child in ages. Don’t worry. Kilana and I will make more.”

“Give this one a chance to be weaned first, please!” Kilana laughed.

“Is motherhood everything you dreamed it would be?” Siana asked.

“It’s exhausting! The labor was more painful than I thought! But Milo is so wonderful!” Kilana’s eyes began to water. “I’m also incredibly emotional!”

“That’s the hormones. They’ll pass and be replaced with lots of love.”

“I don’t know how long I should breastfeed! I don’t want Milo to grow up!”

“He’ll be a diplomat!” Weyoun insisted. 

“Or a mascot!” Jivan joked.

“Or a troublemaker,” Cornelius jabbed. “I hope he’s more like the mother than the father.”

“I hope the Jem’Hadar girls don’t eat him!”

“They think he’s cute as a button! They fight over who gets to hold him!” Kilana reported with relief. “Katana asked why she can’t breastfeed him. Jasper and Jack sat her down and explained to her the difference between mammals and reptiles.”

“Is there news from the Founders?” 

“You know, for once, I don’t care,” Weyoun replied. “Things are going just fine without the Founders.”

**Author's Note:**

> "Shine" by Collective Soul
> 
> Give me a word  
> Give me a sign  
> Show me where to look  
> Tell me what will I find  
> Lay me on the ground  
> Fly me in the sky  
> Show me where to look  
> Tell me what will I find  
> Oh, heaven let your light shine down
> 
> Love is in the water  
> Love is in the air  
> Show me where to look  
> Tell me will love be there  
> Teach me how to speak  
> Teach me how to share  
> Teach me where to go  
> Tell me will love be there  
> Oh, heaven let your light shine down
> 
> Give me a word  
> Give me a sign  
> Show me where to look  
> Tell me what will I find  
> Lay me on the ground  
> Fly me in the sky  
> Show me where to look  
> Tell me what will I find  
> Oh, heaven let your light shine down
> 
> I'm gonna let it shine  
> I'm gonna let it shine  
> Heaven send a light, let it shine on me
> 
> Hey yeah  
> Hey yeah  
> Heaven send a light, let it shine on me  
> It's gonna shine on  
> Shine on me  
> Its gonna shine on  
> Well come on and shine


End file.
